


Picking up the Pieces

by Toshua



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones at his best, Gen, Minor Injuries, Post-Movie(s), Starship Enterprise (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshua/pseuds/Toshua
Summary: After the end of the movie there's a lot of damage to everyone and everything.





	Picking up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Ever think about the 'mop up' operations? The ship doesn't have warp power. There's damage everywhere. Especially to some of the crew.

McCoy’s intercom buzzed, interrupting the doctor’s late evening study and bourbon over ice. “What now?” McCoy slapped shut the PAD and tossed it on his desk and keyed the microphone. “What?” he growled. He glanced at the glowing time display on the wall; after midnight.

“Bones.” Jim Kirk’s voice hesitated for a second before plowing on. “How do you feel about house calls?”

Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy was out of his comfortable chair before Kirk’s words were finished. Kirk’s voice was throaty, hoarse, like every breath hurt. He grabbed his medical kit even as his feet slipped into shoes.

The command staff of the Enterprise shared quarters on the same circular deck but this did not hold true for the current acting captain. Jim Kirk came aboard almost as a stowaway, courtesy of McCoy. Kirk had been assigned a bunk in the section of the ship reserved for guests, three levels down from McCoy’s cabin.

McCoy dashed into the nearest turbolift and directed it to VIP quarters. The lift obediently went down and sideways efficiently depositing him in a section of the ship he’d never seen. He really hadn’t given any thought about where the cadet now captain had landed for quarters.

“Computer, current location of James Kirk.”

“James Kirk is in Cabin 340B.” The female voice coolly answered.

“Show me.”

A small strip of LED lights immediately illuminated a path on the floor with a small arrow pointing the way. Bones was off at a quick trot following the blinking arrow as it preceded him. The green arrow stopped at a door with a hand written number and name stuck to the frame. The door opened without a buzzed request for entry.

Bones entered rooms barely lit with a glow from the bathroom’s open door. He paused, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. “Jim?”

“Here.” The voice whispered from a corner that pretended to be an office. Lights rose at a whispered command and revealed Jim Kirk still in black slacks and tee shirt partially reclined in his office chair. 

“What’s wrong? Lights.” McCoy demanded in the same breath.

The recessed lights glowed brighter illuminating the rooms. Kirk moved from the chair dropping a wet towel which had been around his neck as he did so. Small chips of melting ice cubes rattled to the carpet.

McCoy was at his side in an instant, one hand halting Jim’s efforts to get to his feet while the other one was already unfastening his medical kit at his waist.

Kirk didn’t protest the hand holding him still, just lifted his head higher so the bruises and swelling on his neck was revealed.

Bones groaned. “Spock did this?” His pen light was out and lit.

Kirk nodded. “And the Romulans. Forgot about it until I started having problems talking.” he whispered. “Think something’s wrong. Put ice on the swelling; didn’t help much.”

“No kidding something’s wrong. Your trachea shows signs of compression damage, so does your larynx. Hurt to swallow?” McCoy kept waving a scanner over Kirk’s head, face and neck.

Kirk nodded. “Little bit.”

McCoy loaded a hypospray. “Pointy eared hobgoblin. You ought to bring him up on charges.”

“Not just Spock. Nero helped. Kirk’s eyes closed and he swallowed, visually wincing.

“No excuse. He could have killed you.” McCoy placed the hypo against Kirk’s throat and pressed it, repeating the motion on the other side. “That should ease the pain and swelling. Those bruises will take awhile. 

McCoy rocked back on his knees. “Suppose telling you to rest and not talk for the next twenty four hours won’t do any good.”

Kirk’s voice came back stronger. “We’re not going anywhere fast with just sub-light engines. This is one time I can probably follow your orders.” He pushed Bones’ restraining hand away, and stood up. He almost stumbled but caught himself on the chair. “Starfleet is sending a repair tug with a couple warp cores and a pile of experts. They’ll be here tomorrow or the day after. It’ll be at least a day installing and configuring the cores.”

“Bet Scotty loves that.”

“He’s going to oversee it all. We’re badly damaged. Whole sections of the ship have been evacuated and left open to space.”

“Quit talking Jim. Your throat has to heal on its own.”

Jim nodded silently. After a second he opened his mouth again only to shut it at Bones’ raised finger.

McCoy looked around the stark rooms which were barely furnished with modular furniture. “I sure didn’t think VIP quarters were this bare.”

“No need for anything else.” Kirk whispered, brushing by McCoy to collapse on the bare mattress.

“I’ll send a quartermaster up with some bedding, Jim. You should at least have a blanket and pillow.”

His response was a snore.

McCoy listened to the breathy snore for a moment before calling for the lights to dim. He stepped outside into the curved hallway and called the quartermaster from a convenient wall mounted intercom.

“Yeoman Rand, Quartermaster office.”

“Dr. McCoy, Yeoman Rand. Send up some bedding to VIP quarters 340B.”

“Sir, we only have guests staying on Deck 2. Deck 3 is damaged and empty.”

“Yeoman, our acting Captain is asleep on a bare mattress in cabin 340B. It’s been a rough couple of days. Bring up a couple blankets, a pillow and some towels. Make sure that this cabin is not one that vital systems have been compromised.”

“Yes sir. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Thank you.” McCoy keyed off the intercom and headed back to his own cabin hoping for a few hours sleep.

 

Morning found McCoy buzzing for entry into Kirk’s quarters. When the door didn’t open the doctor over rode the lock and entered.

He found Jim wrapped in a blanket, hugging a pillow, curled on his side, still snoring. Bones shook his head at the younger man, fully clothed under the blanket. Another blanket and a stack of towels were on the table next to the desk.

“Jim.” He hesitated to wake the captain but he wanted to check Jim’s throat and airway. While he’d been quick to heap the injuries to Kirk on the Vulcan First Officer he had to admit that the Romulans were more than responsible. The extent of the battles the human had gone through on the Romulan ship had not been discussed. The bruising around his face, his neck and head, swollen and scraped hands were mute testimony to intense battles and underlying damage. He quietly ran a scanner over the captain’s head and neck, frowning at the readings. Jim’s temperature was up a few degrees and the swelling in his throat had only slightly diminished. A visit to Medical was definitely on the list of priorities.

McCoy called Kirk’s name again, louder, and then reached for the sleeping form. His hand barely made contact with the nearest shoulder before Kirk startled and tried to escape.

Kirk’s jerked movement stopped with a loud groan and Jim carefully settled onto his back. Slitted eyes glared at McCoy. “Morning.” he croaked. He carefully pushed himself up on his elbows. Jim groaned again, then moving like someone who’s every joint hurt, swung his bare feet to the floor. “What time is it?”

“Mid morning.” Bones looked at his patient with a critical eye. “You look like something a cat dragged in.”

Kirk sat on the edge of the mattress, head hanging. “Thanks for the observation.” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper and he cleared his throat, and then coughed.

“Yeah, you’re still swollen inside. Not as bad as last night. Your next stop is Sickbay.” He looked at the blood stained clothes Kirk had slept in. “After a shower and clean clothes.”

“Don’t have any.”

“What?”

“Clean clothes. Remember you kidnapped me from the Academy. I was wearing cadet red. You found these in Sickbay.”

“Right. Okay, Sickbay first. While you’re showering I’ll take care of the clothes thing.”

“Food would be good too.” Kirk accepted McCoy’s hand and levered to his feet with another groan.

“What am I, a short order cook?”

Jim ignored the comment as he pulled on his boots.

 

Sickbay had settled down to a dull roar from the events of the last few days. Critical injuries now had their own wing in the undamaged part of the ship’s hospital with their own nurses and interns watching over them. Granted the nurse designation had been impressed onto any crew members with any type of emergency medical training.

Kirk and McCoy’s entrance was barely noticed by a shorthanded and exhausted staff. McCoy pointed Kirk toward the medical locker room with a stern “Shower now.”

“I need to see Pike first.” Kirk whispered.

“Shower. I’ll have clothes and a breakfast tray waiting. You can see Pike while you eat.”

Kirk accepted the command and headed toward the locker room. McCoy watched until Jim disappeared then turned to accomplish his next mission.

Computers and replicators were wonderful things when they performed as required. Clean black clothes and underwear were waiting on a shelf when Kirk stepped into a locker room draped in towels from the first shower he’d had in what felt like days. He eyed the gold tunic with Captain’s stripes folded neatly on the top of the stack then ignored it for the black undershirt. Pike was onboard now and ‘Captain’ didn’t rest well in his weary brain. Instead he turned toward a mirror and wiped off the steam covered glass and stared at himself. The bruising was spectacular.

 

Dressed, shaved and hair almost dry Kirk pulled on his boots and headed out the door. McCoy met him with a covered tray and pointed with his chin toward a closed door labeled ‘Private’. “Pike has the only private room in Sickbay. Take this.” He handed Kirk the tray. “You get thirty minutes before I’m hauling you out for a once over. Try not to raise your voice.”

Kirk was surprised to see Pike sitting up in bed with his own breakfast tray in front of him. A large carafe of coffee and two mugs occupied the table beside the bed. Pike glanced up at Kirk when the younger man entered and pointed to a vacant chair with its own table.

“McCoy said I was having company.” He studied Kirk’s bruised and battered face. “You look worse than I do.”

Kirk placed the tray carefully and flopped into the chair without any grace. “Thanks.” he whispered. He reached for coffee and mug without being invited. When Pike nodded he poured a second cup of the steaming drink and handed it over.

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

Kirk raised his head so the dark bruises surrounding his neck were visible. “Romulan choke hold.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t break your neck.” Pike sipped his coffee.

“So I’ve been told. How are you doing?” Kirk uncovered his food and groaned. Soft oatmeal, scrambled eggs and applesauce; nothing that could hurt a swollen throat. Kirk went back to his coffee.

“McCoy says I might walk again but it’ll be awhile. The Romulans did a number on my back and several other things. Like you, lucky to be alive. Thanks to you by the way.”

“Thank Spock. He did one of those mind meld things on a Romulan to find you.”

“Really? That’s an awful big thing for a Vulcan to do. Lowering their mental shields leave them wide open to the other’s mind. It’s not something done lightly.”

Kirk stared into his coffee mug for a long moment before meeting Pike’s eyes. “During a mind meld does a Vulcan share his thoughts?”

“I suppose. From what I’ve studied about Vulcans choosing a mate requires the minds to join at some level. They don’t talk about it and it’s considered extremely rude to bring up Vulcan culture to non-Vulcans.”

Kirk focused on his coffee. Thoughts that had been spinning through his mind for the previous 24 hours started to make some type of sense. He needed to contact the senior Spock as soon as possible. He had to know if what his minds’ eye showed was possible in this reality.

“Spock was determined to succeed. We were looking for a way to send Nero back to where he came from. Your location was secondary to our plans.” Kirk forced his thoughts back to business and Pike’s comment.

“I see.” Pike studied his protégé’s face. “I’m sure the report of this mission will be fascinating reading.”

“And immediately classified for Captain’s eyes only.” Kirk’s whispered words contained an unspoken plea. “McCoy will not release me for duty, mentally or physically. Technically Spock should be in command as my First Officer and XO.”

“I made you First Officer when I put Spock in command. The field promotion still holds until I say otherwise.” He paused. “Do you want the First Officer spot until we get back to Starfleet? Can you work with Spock? McCoy told me that there were some problems between you. Not all of those finger marks on your throat are Romulan.”

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, or at least as deep as his rib cage would let him. Command of a Starship was a siren’s call. His brief moment as Captain had been heady and terrifying. If nothing else it had taught him he had so much to learn. Running on gut instinct was not a command style.

“I can work with Spock as First Officer. There might be some pretty intense disagreements but I can follow orders.”

“Good enough, Commander. Consider this a field promotion until such time as my capabilities are known.” Pike saluted Jim with his coffee mug. “Once McCoy checks you out and you are declared fit for duty, report to Acting Captain Spock.”

“Yes Sir.” He finished the last bite of applesauce. “I’m sure there will be a list of repairs a mile long that Spock will hand over to me to oversee.”

“I’m sure.” Pike tapped the PAD that was lying on the bed next to his legs. “From the looks of these damage reports it’s a miracle we’re in one piece.” He picked up the computer and glanced at it for a moment. “Please tell me where you found this Montgomery Scott character.”

Kirk groaned. “Long story.” He didn’t get any further as McCoy breezed into the room.

“Thirty minutes, Jim. You done with breakfast?”

“Bones – “

“McCoy –“

“Nope. I gave him 30 minutes to discuss ship’s business with you, Captain Pike. Now he’s mine until I say otherwise.”

Kirk almost stumbled as he got to his feet but McCoy’s quick hand grabbed him by the elbow.

“Stiffened up sitting, didn’t you? Bet you a dollar that you’re hiding cracked ribs along with a few other things.”

Kirk grimaced as he straightened, one hand wrapping around his chest. “You might be right.”

“Thought so.” McCoy picked up the breakfast tray and nodded to Pike. “I’ll have Chapel bring in some more coffee and a light pain med. Nothing to knock you out, just make you more comfortable. You need anything else?”

“Tell Spock I want to see him, since you’ve disabled my comm unit.”

“You’re injured. The reason there is no comm unit here is because you need to rest. But I’ll tell Spock.”

Kirk nodded to Pike and followed McCoy out of the private room.

McCoy pointed Kirk to a bed. “Stretch out and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Kirk collapsed on the bed with another groan. While everything was happening and all he could concentrate on was the moment at hand he ignored his injuries. Twenty-four hours later was a different story and everything hurt. He closed his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep the pain away.

McCoy woke him minutes later as a scanner slid around his head, buzzing noisily. 

“Please tell me there’s a reason there is a mosquito buzzing in my ear.” Kirk batted at the hand holding the scanner.

“You drifted off. Sleep is good. You’ve got a concussion, four cracked ribs, swollen larynx and trachea, sprained joints and various torn muscles. If I was smart I’d tell you to stay in bed for a few days, no talking and taking anti-inflammatory with some pain killers. Since I know you won’t listen I’ll tell you to take it as easy as possible if you’ll follow the med schedule I’m going to give you.”

“And if I don’t?” Jim tried a glare but it didn’t work.

“Then you’ll be in the med bay next to Pike.”

Their half serious banter was interrupted with Spock’s brief appearance as he headed for Pike’s medical quarters. The men exchanged brief glances then Kirk started struggling to his feet.

“I need my shirt.” Kirk groaned as his feet hit the floor and he braced himself against the mattress as the room spun for a moment. McCoy returned from the locker room and silently handed over the gold tunic.

“Acting Captain?” McCoy hazarded a guess.

“No.” Kirk deftly pulled the Captain’s stripes off the sleeves with a ripping sound as the Velcro separated. “First Officer.” He pulled the tunic over his head, wincing at every move. His blue eyes met McCoy’s puzzled gaze. “Spock’s acting Captain until Pike is released for duty or until we get back to spacedock and other decisions are made."

McCoy met Kirk’s squarely. “Bet that went over well when Pike told you that.” McCoy finished any other thoughts with a hyprospray into Kirk’s neck. “That’ll help with the pain and swelling everywhere. Your knees and ankle joints are sprained but I’m not going to wrap them as long as you promise you won’t be standing and running over the next week.”

“And my throat?” Kirk rubbed the dark bruises that circled his neck.

“Don’t talk. I mean it. And if you do talk don’t yell. Those muscles and tendons have to heal from the inside.”

They were interrupted again when Spock departed Pike’s lair with the coffee carafe and empty mugs. He placed everything on the table beside them then studied Kirk’s appearance. 

“Dr. McCoy, is Mr. Kirk fit for duty?”

“Limited…Captain. No running, no standing for long periods and no yelling. Minimal talking is best.”

“I see.” One eyebrow went up. “Captain Pike explained the logic behind his rank assignments. Do you object?” He asked Kirk directly.

“No, Captain. His decisions are logical.”

“Very well.” He turned on his heel then stopped mid-motion. “I believe we have a ship to repair as much as possible. Mr. Scott is waiting for us in Engineering, Commander.”

Kirk shot a crooked grin at McCoy. “I’ll do my best not to yell.” Then he followed Spock out the door.


End file.
